


Hell yeah? Hell yeah.

by LaughingMcNugget



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot, Porn with Feelings, hoo boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5864866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingMcNugget/pseuds/LaughingMcNugget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paladin Danse has the best dream ever! Only to wake up and find out he moaned like a bitch in heat. It sure is a good thing that sexy Knight of his didn't hear, or did she? </p><p>Here we go again, my fellow sinners! This time a little bit more sticky! I'm trash, lets be trash together!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell yeah? Hell yeah.

There they were, the mass of rusted armor and the incessant clatter of minigun bullets raining down like hail from an angry sky. They’d torn into the barricade, knocking a feral ghoul out of the way with the brunt force of their momentum, and kept moving like there’d been nothing there at all. They came in like a storm, their dog whirling around them like a dust devil and they were the dark, roaring tornado, ripping anything and everything in their line of fire to shreds. They stood like a wall in front of the injured Knight and the Scribe, an immovable force between them and the ghouls. When the mob had ended, they went in to the workshop, and exited their armor by the armor rack. The Paladin came in after them, a rant boiling in his throat about how that was Brotherhood property, but froze into a lump when he saw them.

  
When he saw _her_.

  
Hair unnatural red; not ginger, not strawberry blonde, red like blood or fire. Red like blush, red like passion.

  
Her eyes glinted against the headlamp on his armor and they shone yellow, golden yellow; the sunrise reflected on the Prydwen and the hot glow of her minigun.

  
The Paladin was taken aback by the look of the woman, jaw slack and body running cold. He’d stepped out of his armor, wanting to face the woman, the demon, the guardian angel, whatever she was, on equal terms. She stood, straight backed but short, curved and outlined in black leather, smiling a berry tinted smile at him “Hello Paladin.”

  
“Not Paladin, not now.”

  
He’d come chest to chest with her, the body heat and texture of her skin on him, somehow they’d become undressed.

  
“ _Danse_ -“ his name was nothing more than a sigh, a moan, on her lips and he loved the sound.

  
If he had his way, that would be the only way she ever said his name, raw and red like her hair.  
He paced her backwards, the concrete floor of the garage now smooth worn wood, and the armor dock a bed that she was being leaned back on. The way she stretched, the roundness of her sides, the way she squished and gave beneath the rough pads of his fingers and the bruises in the shape of his mouth that bloomed over her creamy skin. Gripping his hips and pulling him forwards, she’d all but swallowed his lips in a kiss that was needy and hot, teeth worrying his bottom lip and making it so he couldn’t draw back. Not like he would, he’d finally laid her back, her legs astride his and brushing against his thighs as they wrapped over his hips. She moved like a Commonwealth mutt, all beautiful and naturally powerful breeding, fine muscles hidden under something plush and warm. All at once he was inside her, cock buried deep and eyes barely staying open. He’d dare not close them, hardly daring to blink, not wanting to miss a moment of her. His angel, his demon, his phoenix risen from the ashes of another time. She’d called out his name, and he hers, the way her name tasted on his lips when he came was nectar and she was a poisonous flower beneath him; beautiful, bright, soft, and dangerous. All that was proven when she let go of his lip, mouthing out filthy things that made him blush and grind against her, wishing himself hard again-

And she punched him square in the jaw.

  
The Paladin sat up ramrod, chest heaving and blankets askew and-

  
Wet.

  
He glanced around the wreckage, noting the bit of rubble that must have fallen from the ceiling overhead. That had to have been what hit him. Danse laid back down, orgasmic high and tired out of his senses, a hand slid down his torso and around the damp area of his apex.  
Another lump of something fell on him, bouncing off his chest and tumbling off into the darkness.

  
“Hey” it was short, quiet, and it was her.

  
_Shit_.

  
The hand all but flew from his cock, he’d most likely have thrown it across the room if he could. He’d moaned her name in his sleep, with her only a few feet away from him.

  
She’d heard.

  
She’d seen.

  
She woke him up to reprimand him.

  
“Nicole I-“ his throat was dry, and his eyes wet.  
Even if he’d fallen for her so shortly after working alongside her, even if he’d imagined his life as her partner, she was still his dearest friend; and he may have very well lost that.

  
“I’m so sorry Nicole. I didn’t… I mean…” he was a flustered mess, the dark spot on his blanket showing sleeves of his shirt being wiped across the spillage of tears “I’m so sorry.”

  
“Dansey, hey. Its okay.” She only used that nickname in private, and only when he seemed to be receptive to the closeness she wanted to share with the world.

  
It warmed his heart to know she’d made up a nickname for him, regardless of how unoriginal it was.  
Also, ‘Dansey’ was better than her first trial ‘Dansey Pants.”

  
“You hate me, don’t you.” The tone in his voice, the sniffling afterwards, the look in those wet brown eyes didn’t ask if she hated him, they screamed that he hated himself.

  
Nicole roused from her sleeping roll a few feet from his, and off all things she-

  
“Oh, oh God I-“ Danse’s voice shot up, high and frightened almost, feeling her legs sidled outside of his.

  
She only sat there, smiling at him with the kind of acceptance only someone who was a mother and a lover could achieve. She looked at him like she cared about him, like she wanted him to be happy, like she loved him.

  
“Danse-“ her tone wasn’t quite accusatory, more like knowing, like she was saying ‘Gotcha’ “Are you in love with me?”

  
Danse melted under her gaze, under her touch, under the heat pooling in her apex and pressed against his. His head swam at the question, and he could only nod, hands roaming over the round plane of her stomach, and down to her hips.

  
“Nicks.” He’d swore he'd become a puddle from the heat of her stare.

  
She looked like the phoenix of ancient tales, bright red hair tangled and stuck up like tongues of fire licking at the crest of her half shaved head, and curling like bountiful plumage about her breasts. The orange of her suit reflected in her hazel-brown eyes, and even in the low light they glowed, fixated on him like live embers. He needed to claw off his suit to cool down, let the cold air in the house touch his skin.

  
He needed to rip _her_ suit off, let his fingers flit about her body as though she were flame and he were but a moth basking in the burning light.  
He sighed, more like a puff of steam, and his breath made her bangs tousle ever so slightly

“I am. I really, really am in love with you.”

  
She smiled down at him, the nature and the feel of that understanding smile twisting ever so slightly. Suddenly, she was the phoenix in his dream, all heat and passion welling like the way she’d puffed her chest. She leaned down, pale lips still not kiss swollen and cheeks not post-coital flushed.

  
“ _Prove it._ ”

  
He whimpered at the heat of her breath on his ear, and bucked up through the sleeping mat against her. In an instant his hands were about the snaps on her suit, fumbling and groping at her trapped skin, sliding apart straps and lowering zippers. Her shoulders and cleavage poured out of the suit like water, not the hard mass of muscle he was, but soft and rounded, and she bounced with every breath in a way that-

  
“Oh. God.” The Paladin found his eyes rolling back, apex thrumming as he unsuspectingly climaxed against her heat.

  
Nicole didn’t laugh, she didn’t get up and leave. She ground her wide hips downward, the softness of her mound rubbing against his still elation-raw erection. Danse gasped against the apex of her neck, red hair fluttering as he did. She sat back, something like smugness written in the blush on her cheeks. He grabbed the shoulders of her uniform and tugged, roughly, her breasts toppled out a bit unceremoniously, followed by the rest of her torso. Goosebumps pricked at the caramel cream skin of her core, and she shivered. The way such a slight move made her body bounce was nothing short of intoxicating.  
She lifted one leg, leaning hard on the other, and pulled that leg of the suit off, letting it hang entirely around the pit of her knee.

  
“You’re overdressed, Paladin.”

  
“Not Paladin, not now.” He reached up and traced the angle of her jawline, and the deep triangular cut in the shell of her ear.

  
He’d never cared about the claimed aesthetic marring of that scar, he thought it was beautiful. She was like a stray cat protecting her kits, only she’d gotten it protecting him.  
His hands darted back to himself, flicking open snaps and tugging almost madly on zippers. Danse secured one hand on the round of her rump, and despite the shiver of pleasure he felt run up his spine, he pinned her to his chest, flipping their positions and lowering her gently to his mat. He had always hoped the first time he’d strip for her would be a show, but he honestly didn’t know how much longer he’d last before the blood draining into his cock would make him pass out. The suit came off and was flung on top of her mat. With all the tenderness his shaking hands could muster, he slipped the last leg of her uniform off, and tossed it to mingle in a pile with his. He throbbed painfully, feeling the blood pound against the purple head as he looked at her. Somehow, there was still enough blood in his body to make his entire face pink, to prick the tips of his ears, and to make the scar over his eye nearly _glow_ red.

  
“Nicks you’re-“ he only loomed over her, wide brown eyes taking in everything the low light could offer him “-even better than I could have ever dreamed.”

  
She pulled the blanket that had fallen off to the side up around them, stroking his shoulders as he did so.  
He shuttered at the sweet gesture.  
Those tiny hands trailed from his shoulders, down the dramatic ‘v’ of his chest, and delved into the thick black curls around his navel. He growled and arched into the touch, a low moan willingly let out of his parted lips. She dared her hands lower, and found the sticky, solid mass of him.

  
“You’re hung like a horse.”

  
Danse bucked into her palm, balls dangerously tight against the tip of her fingers.  
“Interesting colloquialism-“ his voice was strained and spoken through gritted teeth “-I’ll take it as a complime-“ his words were lost into a mewling moan when she’d slid the cum wetted head into her body.

  
She held almost perfectly still, feeling his body tense dangerously. They stayed like that for a minute, him huffing hot breaths over her chest, fists tight and shoulders hunched. Nicole dragged her nails up his torso, leaving lines like red hair on his body. At this, he took a soft mound of her stomach and sucked it roughly, eyes fluttering halfway shut when she slid him in further as response. His nails had been long past leaving crescents in his skin, like he were holding onto his own control by the grip he had on his palms. He was in the final stretch of this encounter, luckily he had stamina to make up for his rather sensitive manhood. If things went his way, he’d wake up in an hour or so with her still wrapped around him, and show her how much he cared with something slower and more _passionate_. He released her stomach and kissed up her chest, only placing a soft kiss on one nipple before laving his tongue up the nape of her neck. She keened under him, loud and high, hands bunching in his hair as she did. One hand slid between them and brushed against his shaft as he pulled back, wiping the slick of his previous orgasms off and worrying itself otherwise. Danse looked between them and saw her touching herself, saw her arc into her palm.

  
“Don’t you stop on me now Dansey.” Her voice was raspy with deep breaths, and her almost glowing eyes flickered to meet his.

  
She was like staring at a fire, the way her body undulated, the spread of her hair like wings behind her, her shoulders lifting her off the ground when he thrust back in. The hand between them worked more franticly, brushing against him as it did her. He pulled back, growling her name, roughly kissing her lips. He slid back in again, sheathing himself to the hilt and spilling like a burst dam. He cried her name against her lips, little whimpers and pecks across her face like stars splattered across the sky. He thrust a few more times, each one weaker then before, his body going slack from exhaustion.

Until she cried out his name.

  
‘Danse!’

  
It was like he’d never heard his name before, something so alien and yet that was the only way he wanted to hear it from her ever again.

  
Breathless from him

  
Lost in him

  
Entirely found in him

  
In love with him

  
Oh, _God_. It was amazing. One last thrust that he didn’t know he had in him made stars blink behind his eyes, and he moaned her name again, reverently, like he were praising a deity whose legs he laid between.  
The Paladin felt his arms give out, and his weary body melded with hers. He curled on his side, pulling her with him. She whimpered at the loss of him in her when he did so, but silenced herself with kissing his bristled jaw.

  
“That wasn’t the first time I caught you, you know.”

  
Danse looked a little uncomfortable at the idea, craning his neck to silence her with a soft, fluttery kiss. She whispered his name against his lips, teeth gently skimming the skin. He started to still under the ministrations breathing getting heavy and steady.

  
“Are we still best friends?”

  
Danse smiled, tiredly weaving fingers through her hair “Mmhmm”

  
He did something celebratory he’d learned from her, and raised a fist. She gently punched it and made a little ‘Pew’ noise that he echoed, hand drawing back and fingers wiggling, mirroring his.

  
“Hell yeah?”

  
“Hell yeah.”

 

 


End file.
